At the Slaughtered Prince
by lucy the divaqueen
Summary: a short one-shot of the left-out scene at the slaughtered prince. Or at least, parts of it.PG-13. movieverse. Oneshot


"All I had to do was look up and see it. And I have."

"I love you."

Her eyes thudded closed with emotion, his breath so close to her face, his mouth so close to hers. Her light couldn't be contained- or expressed because he loved her in return. He was her someone. He was her someone to spend eternity with. Her Tristan.

She felt herself shining brighter and brighter and his mouth touched hers, caressing her lips and she trembled, a flash of light darting across the room as she melted into him. Her Tristan. He loved her. Loved _her_. Take that, Victoria. She pressed further against him, making small noises against his mouth, needing more, craving more of him, and he was hers and only hers and she felt the tears come up again and she gasped at his mouth, clutching at his hair in desperation of him.

His mouth moved away from her mouth and started to kiss down her neck. At once she felt herself shriek for him to come back and rejoice in that very interesting new trick he had learned. It wasn't fair that he could affect her like that. She could feel herself shining more, only it was a different kind of light than she was used to. Tristan licked roughly at the sensitive spot on her neck and she shivered and tingled. And the shining fire, the all consuming love that made her heart sigh for him and made her heart twist in her chest whenever he spoke to her and made her heart stop completely when his face lowered towards hers and the love that made her cry with joy when he kissed her was boiling. She could feel it racing in her veins and tingling and scorching her and she writhed and twisted under his grip because it was too much, just too much sensation and spark to have all over her.

He smiled against her neck as she squirmed and licked her again and as he did the fire burned all the hotter, flashing like lightening to the core of her body and she gasped, struggling against the flame because it was stung and prickled, but it felt so nice. It was too much to have, too much, and she needed some relief, but Tristan was adamant, and continued to nip and suck at her skin, and she trembled and mashed her eyes shut all the more, blocking out the sensations. She needed him to stop, it was too much. What was he doing to her? She felt as if her body was too small and too large all at once to contain all that she was feeling. She felt him move closer and leapt away, even as she felt herself falling towards him desperately.

She bit her lip and pushed him away, gasping, and tore at her hair. What had he done? He had no magic, what had he DONE? She felt tears coming, so weak and unstable. He didn't deserve to have her crying on him. He didn't deserve her issues. Was she unable to……do anything? Was something wrong with her?

She looked up to apologize and his expression was so shocked, so worried and so gentle she felt the tears spill over her eyes, sloshing over the dam of her eyelids that had worked so furiously to keep them in. Stupid, stupid eyes. His big, warm, calloused hands cupped her face tenderly, his thumbs brushing away the tears.

"What? I'm so sorry. I….I didn't think Y'vaine. I got a little carried away. I thought you……I thought you liked it. It seemed like…. I'm so sorry. I'm an idiot. Please forgive me. Y'vaine?"

His eyes searched hers desperately, his brow wrinkled in consternation and those big, smiling eyes weren't smiling. Why did she have to ruin this? Why? Why was she so stupid?

"No, no. I'm sorry Tristan. I just got a little….I don't think I can. Kiss you, I mean."

She felt the idiocy of her words as they left her lips and her face wrinkled up again in disgust. And of course, this being a somewhat over dramatic love story, Tristan misinterpreted her expression.

"Oh. I understand. I know I must…not be very...Um...good at….what we were doing."

He glanced rapidly between his hands and her face, alternately searching for her reaction and hiding his. The air between them was still and awkward and she wished that she could melt away the tension, that she had kept her mouth shut. It took her a second, but once the realization set in, she threw up her hands in exasperation. Was love always this absurd??

"Tristan, no! Not at….I rather feel you are annoyingly too good at it! Hence that reaction. Honestly, if you're searching for compliments I would rather you keep that kind of comments to yourself. Honestly! Not good at it…."

Her voice changed to anger and agitation halfway through the rant and his face creased into a smile.

"Ah. Good. Then what's the problem? We can take it slow. I would- I would never expect you to, you know, um, do everything. That is, not that you need to! Or, not need to, I mean, want to. Not that I want you to. Well, I do, kind of,-…"

She decided that she should kiss him again, clearly, just to shut him up. The second her mouth touched his, her skin felt alive again. Glowing. He tugged her waist forward and she smiled at him, relieved until his hands slid to her back, a comforting gesture, but it was happening again. At first, it was the same, with the singing chorus and the shine pealing lovingly off her. And he never increased his pace, he simply continued to sweetly kiss her, and her eyes fluttered closed. But as they went, her heart thrumming in her chest, she could feel the fire coming back, except it was slower this time, a hot, deep pulse that thudded in time with his heart, and the shivers broke out. Just as she was about to moan in agony, he pulled back, his smile breathtaking and goofy with happiness.

Seeing his face broke any pain she had still ricocheting around in her. She could do it for him. She had to. Especially when he looked so expectant and happy.

"There. You can enjoy it. We don't have to take it any farther than that." He beamed proudly at her, and then reached to cuddle her in his wide chest. She flinched away, frowning. She had always seen this in the sky- humans and their drama about making love. It seemed to make more sense now. She hated to break off that smile, detested the notion, but she owed him the truth. He would never be happy is she faked her own joy. He had to at least know what she was feeling.

Yvaine took his hands, resting her head on his shoulder, the towel of miracles still clinging to her body as a safe barrier between his all-to-welcome warmth.

"No, Tristan. I don't…I mean, it's always lovely at first. The best thing. But it always ends up the same. I get all shaky, and my head feels light, and my stomach starts to twist like I've been falling suddenly from a sharp drop and my blood starts to burn and it just build and builds and builds. It's not you at all Tristan. It really is me. I don't know what's wrong with me. Humans…..humans don't react like this. It must just be because I'm a star. There is no other possible explanation!"

She looked up when she heard his laughter, and the rage broke out. Did he think it was funny? Really? It wasn't her fault! And she certainly wasn't lying.

"Y'vaine. I know that it isn't because you're a star. Do you know how I know? Because the same thing happens to me. It's not a sickness. It's getting……interested. When you love someone as much as I'm assuming we love each other, it must not take much. I mean, I've never…..you know. But I think I'm right that we're just getting…..um..." He wrinkled his nose, looking agonized. She didn't understand. It was frustrating, so frustrating to not understand what he meant. He looked so uncomfortable it scared her a little.

"Tristan? Are you alright? What is it; you have to tell me what's happening! Please!"

She pulled his face to look at him, searching for his gaze, but he turned purple and looked away. Blocking her out.

" Tristan!"

" Yvaine, I don't know how to put this any other way because it makes me sound like the arrogant prick I am, but I think that you're just……"

"Tristan! Tell me!"

His mouth flipped up into a tiny smirk and then he leaned forward and kissed her again. His lips were warm and rough and wide and all her confusion and earlier worry melted away as they rubbed against her, despite the fact that he really was being quite rude and she wanted answers but… Tristan's lovely hands came up to fist at her hair and the back of her towel, just above her back, and the heat seeking from them alone was enough for her to start shining. She gasped when he roughly tugged her head away from his by her hair and kissed at her collarbone. She started to feel the burn again, the sharp, shivery felling rooting itself in her stomach and she whimpered in what she assumed to be pain, the itching becoming unbearable when his hands came up her sides to grip her waist, tracing patterns against her ribs with his thumbs, and she squirmed against him again.

She had a vague thought that somehow; somehow, if she got closer to him, the dreadfully wonderful itching would stop. And so she pressed herself closer to him, the fabric of her towel scratching against their chests when she did, and then his hands moved and his thumbs brushed against the sides of her breasts, and she flung herself away from him in shock, because the burning had become unbearably harsh against her skin when he had done that.

She stood there panting in her towel, her chest still feeling swollen and tingly from his touch. What was he _doing_ to her?

"Yvaine, it's all right." Tears welled up in her eyes when he said that because he sounded so _damned _sweet. It was horrible that she couldn't do this for him. Why was she so wretched? Victoria could give him what he needed. She wouldn't have this kind of reaction, because she was human and safe and pretty.

"Yvaine, you aren't sick or different from me, you know that. I might as well just say it. You're not getting hurt or getting bewitched or anything magical like that. You're just getting…. Erm, I don't really know how to put it."

"Oh, spit it out Tristan!"  
He grinned cheekily at her, and tugged her to him, tucking his face into her neck. She tried to jerk away, because she wanted to know, damnit, and he kept trying to distract her but he help fast to her hips, his lips brushing her ear and she shuddered.

"Yvaine, you're simply getting…. Um, Aroused. That's all." And here he paused, his hands moving to grip her hips, and stars, firework stars, not stars like her, burst behind her eyelids as her body brushed firmly against his.

"Just like me."

she blinked the starbursts away from her eyes, clinging to him, aching to feel him again, for the shining fire still hadn't gone away, it was consuming her. Such was her state that it took her several minutes to grasp his words while she recovered. And was mortified when she realized them.

"Oh. OH! Oh god…..I' sorry Tristan. God how embarrassing!"

She hid her face in his shoulder and half-laughed as his laughs went into her hair, shaking off the embarrassment (twice that night she had resembled a tomato) and the tingling in her veins. His hands rubbed her arms soothingly and she chuckled weakly, trying to laugh off her mortification. They stood there like that, comforting each other.

"Tristan?"

"Yes?"

"I think I'd like to kiss you again, please."

He grinned down at her and nuzzled her neck, nudging her towards the bed.

"Is that all?"

Lips and bodies came together, her hands pressing into his neck.

"Yes. That's all."


End file.
